Lions and goats, the 'Emergency' room and men comfortable in pink!

One of they guys who lives on my compound came home the other nights saying that he had been to the zoo that day and the workers had told him that the lions, hyenas and cheetah get fed live goats between 8-9am each morning, he really wanted to see it! As vulgar and inhumane as this may seem, for some reason I thought that being in Africa meant I had to witness this event also, kind of a right of passage I think I told myself. So off we went bright an early (I actually had nightmares about it the night before so was almost going to pull out!) the next morning, paid out ticket and camera fee and went in to wait for the goats. The zoo was a rather depressing place, the lions were the skinniest most emaciated looking things I'd ever seen. The Chimpanzees were pretty clever though, they'd put their hands out of the cage and you could stroke them (I think they actually wanted food, but I liked to think they wanted to hold my hand). So after an hour of walking around looking at sad and sick looking animals, we asked one of the park attendants where these alleged goats were, and were informed that the 'Goat man' was late and that they'd be arriving “in the afternoon, or maybe by 11am” (which really meant he had no idea and it could be anytime that day!). So we admitted defeat for the day and swore we'd be back another time.

I went for my first tour around the local hospital the other day, and I use the term 'hospital' very loosely indeed. I guess it all depends of how you define a hospital, in the West we expect a certain degree of sterility in the environment and also an amount of concern, care and empathy from medical staff. But when I hear no one even washes their hands between patients alarm bells sound!

I was shown around the paediatric ward first (as this is where I'll likely be staying with kids I need to bring). On each side of the dark corridor were rooms that held 4-6 children. The beds had plastic mattresses with the stuffing coming out, dirty peeling linoleum floors, ripped mosquito nets and many drawn tired looking faces or parents and family members who had set up next to their child's bed to be primary caregiver for the duration of the stay. I've been told that nurses here by comparison are 'useless and only give medications', and as soon as a white person comes in with a child, they expect them to do all the caring. Of course I assume this reflects the standard of education nurses get here, but it gives me a clearer understanding of why people here think I'm a doctor. Anyone who can look at symptoms, make a diagnosis and then dispense the medication must be a doctor and the training we get in the West is so superior that I can now appreciate why they conclude this. As my tour continued I was shown the emergency room or 'injection' room as they call it. This consisted of 3 flat plinth beds and 3 2x2m curtained cubicles which I assume is where doctors were seeing their patients? There was no emergency resuscitation equipment, no defibrillators, not even an ECG in sight! I'm learning that nothing is ever urgent here, there is no such thing as an emergency!

Considering the process one has to go through to get seen in this place I'm less surprised at the laid back nature of treatment. First, once you drop the child at the injection room (lay them on a table!) you have to go to the reception area and get a form for the child, then you have to go to another area to have it stamped, then to the billing area to make sure funds will be changed to the right account, then if you need any labs or tests you have to go to different places to have those priced and billed.....I can see myself literally pulling out my hair the first time I have to go through this process!

On the subject of healthcare, I had a fantastic day out at Gyero orphanage last week giving injections to some of the kids who were due their polio, hepatitis and tetanus shots. Now before you think I have a problem, I do not take pleasure in inflicting pain on these wee ones, but I do love using my skills and the passion God has given me for medicine to help these gorgeous children. And beautiful they are. And stoic! No tears at all, some scared looking faces, but in comparison to the performances from some of the children in ED in NZ when I attempted to convince them to swallow liquid Panadol, these are brave little souls! Went through all the files of the children in the orphanage with each of the uncles and aunties to see which children were still there and who had either been reconciled with family or who had moved on to Transition House. Was really encouraging seeing so many children who had been reunited with family or had made the shift on to TH, but made me realise how hard it must be saying goodbye after becoming attached (which I can foresee being an easy occurrence).

I finally went to pick up my garments that I had sewn from Nigerian fabric into a traditional Nigerian style skirt and top, and even though it's not a perfectly fitted piece, I will look the part at church this Sunday. My Nigerian outfit was sewn by a group of widows who SIM are working with to teach the skills necessary to set up their own businesses in tailoring. I will be getting involved in the weeks to come in teaching them literacy also. Using words to describe traditional Nigerian dress just does not do it justice, but think the brightest colours, most intricate patterns and matching skirts and tops (and also head scarves for women). Any of you men who would secretly LOVE to wear pink and purple everyday of the week if you could do so without causing alarm or feeling emasculated would feel right at home here in Nigeria. There seems to be no colour division for the genders, and men feel completely comfortable wearing paisley, floral and poka dots. Weddings here are a big deal. My best friend got married before I left for Africa and had about 180 at her wedding which is considered average to large in NZ context. Weddings in Nigeria would easily have 2000 people attending. The bride chooses a fabric colour theme for her wedding which then becomes the 'uniform' e.g. blue and gold. We have a friend in the SIM office getting married in May and she is getting us fabric to get uniforms made so we will all look the same! I can't wait to tell you more about it when I go.

Now I must apologise for the lack if photos, I promise to include some soon, but I really need to start taking them! It's hard here though because there is still a strong belief that if someone takes your photo, they're stealing part of your soul, so a lot of venders will not let you take pictures or they will for a price and want you to buy whatever they're selling! I've therefore been having to take pictures of street scenes from a distance and with the Harmattan dust still about the photos are hazy and just look terrible. Then I get so busy and absorbed in clinics and when at the orphanage that I forget. Anyway, enough excuses, my mission this week will be to digitally document as best I can. Promise.

Culture, Safety, Biggest Loser and the kids

So now that I have finished my initial cultural orientation, I wanted to share with you some of the more interesting and most different cultural norms in Nigeria.

-Greetings: these are very important, to neglect a proper greeting is perceived as rude and arrogant. It is even customary for people to interrupt you with greetings when you are in a conversation with someone else.

-Respect for elders: Nigerians refer to each other very formally. A woman will always be referred to as the mother of her first or most significant child, for example my mother would be called Mama Nicky. First names are not used, except in private or with close friends and most children will call you 'mama' or 'baba' or 'aunty' or 'uncle' to show respect. It's the cutest thing for all these kids you have never met to come running up to you shouting 'aunty aunty'!

-Eye contact: You must not hold eye contact continuously while having a conversation with a Nigeria. It is important to divert your eyes once in a while otherwise it makes Nigerian feel scrutinised or not trusted.

-People orientated, not goal focussed: people matter more than events in Nigerian culture. The phrase 'Nigerian Time' refers to the non-observance of time in the culture. Nigerian are not time-orientated, because they will not interrupt a conversation with someone even if they are 'late' for another engagement. Hence we've been told that if we receive an invite to be somewhere at a particular time, be there 30mins later, or you can ask whether it's 'Nigerian time' or 'Western time'!

-Space and privacy: Nigerian build houses close together as a sign of neighborliness (communal lifestyle was what people depended on for survival in famine and war), Nigerians also tend to stand very close together when having a conversation (quite daunting at first!), taxi drivers cram people into their cars so they can make more money and will even try to stop and let you in when their totally full my Western standards.

-Visiting: You always have to offer a drink three times, as accepting on the first offer is seen as rude, like they only came for a drink not for your company. If a visitor comes while you're eating you are expected to ask them to join you or make them something else to eat. You must always accept an offer made to you without question; to refuse something outright, even if you intend not to partake, is seen as extremely offensive.

-Other interesting things: receiving and giving gifts with your left hand is not permitted, neither is smelling food in the markets (as this indicates it's rotten, always gently squeeze it to determine if it is ripe), safe sex show physical affection in public as it shows genuine friendship (you see guys holding hands down the street), however opposite sex, even husbands and wives do not show any public affection. Nigerians should never speak angrily to anyone in public as loosing your temper is a taboo.

I'm sure many of you have been wondering whether it's safe here and what the security is like. It's such a hard thing to give a clear picture of without making it sound really scary, which for the most part it's not but I'll try to explain it to the best of my ability with what understanding I have at this point. As I'm sure most of you are aware (from my previous emails prior to leaving NZ) there is an extremist fanatical Muslim group called the Boko Haram who are active mostly in the North, but who have in recent months bombed various cities in the Central and Southern states. Their agenda as I understand, is religious, they want to turn Nigerian into a Muslim country, but as with most causes, there are both political and economic undertones. Because Plateau State is the most productive for food, being higher and having richer soils and better rain fall, most of the food for the country comes from what they call the 'middle belt'. The oil however, and therefore most of the money, is down South. Hence strategically, the Boko Haram, who currently reside in the Muslim North (which is hot, barren and quite poor) want to gain control over Jos and spread further South so they have resources and money which will lead to ultimate power. This is why it's such a hard thing to solve, it's a crisis with a combination of so many factors and is such an old conflict with now easy answers. The media do not do a great job at explaining the complexity of the situation either according to locals here. There has been much blood shed from both sides so it is hard even for those who call themselves true Christians to forgive and love their Muslim brothers when they've lost family members and friends. So with that as a very basic outline to the root of the tensions here, back to my day to day living here and how 'safe' I really am. Basically, we're on level 1 'precautionary' alert. There are 4 levels from precautionary, standby, assembly then full relocation or evacuation. Jos has been on a level 1 for over a year. At the moment we are maintaining normal routines and are just meant to be cautious around the primarily Muslim areas of town. There is increased segregation over the last few months due to the conflict and many of the Muslim's who used to come to our clinics don't feel safe coming anymore. We are having to be sensible and alert, for example we don't go to town Friday afternoons because that's when the Muslims have their big prayer sessions. We all have cell phones linked to a security alert system, so that we can receive alerts of areas of possible conflict and so that we can be told to return to compound ASAP if need be. I have a distress alarm in my house and a lockable door to a room so that if someone is at my door I can run and sound the alarm. There are times when it is disconcerting, for example, hearing military helicopters flying over head is a sign that there is need for extra security somewhere in town, so just to be extra aware as it indicates some increased tension somewhere. But we have a crisis management team and a security committee who are always doing risk management so we stay in the loop.

Wow this has been a very serious blog so far....lets lighten things up a bit.....

I miss REAL milk! And yoghurt and cottage cheese (ah to live in the dairy capital of the world!!- don't take it for granted people!) and expresso coffee (nescafe and powdered milk just doesn't cut it!). I have a feeling a lot of the blogs will be about the differences in food and cuisine but ah well, it's something that people can relate to. There are some really expensive items here (imported of course) like cereal at $13 a box! Hence why I get our home help to make home made muesli for me. Cheap things are of course the local fruit and veggies, for example I got 12 mangoes for the equivalent of $2.50 NZ the other day (which are a lot sweeter and smaller here than the imported ones from home) and got a papaya for $1 (and de-seeded it myself!). Lots of businesses here are owned by Lebanese business men and so a lot of the cuisine has Lebanese flavours and the supermarkets stock ingredients such as couscous and chickpeas. Another thing I've had to get used to seeing in the markets is huge numbers of chickens crouched on the ground ready to be sold. The first time I saw this I assumed they were dead, but on closer inspection saw their heads moving! They tie their legs tied together so they can't move which seems to have a weird pacifying effect so that the chickens just quietly wait and accept their fate. They sell all their chickens live in Nigeria so if you want to buy one you get to choose it and it's head is cut off right then and there - can't get fresher meat than that!! So all Nigerian women and most of the long term missionaries can skin and bone a chicken in their sleep....I'm undecided if that it a skill I'm going to try to acquire! There is a meat shop in town where it comes pre prepared, frozen in plastic, think this will be the way I go in the near future at least!

For your interest, the term 'correct Nigerian food' stands for food that 'holds' the stomach; food that makes one full and satisfied (very helpful when spending all day out on the farm). I was told by one of the nurses that babies here a weaned early from milk and started on solids that expand their stomaches from a young age. This explains why you see tiny kids and woman with massive bowls full of food (about the volume I'd consume in 5 meals-no exaggeration) that they easily eat all of.

In terms of exercise, I had assumed this would be a rarity here, as it is not a part of Nigerian culture; the men (historically at least) did so much manual labour in the fields all day that additional exercise for physical wellbeing (as we need in the West due to our sedentary jobs and lifestyles) was unheard of. It's been great though because my flatmate Fiona is an avid runner also so we have been going to the local school to run loops around the track there and in the secret of our own apartments have shamefully been enjoying doing an exercise DVD by Jillian from Biggest Loser called 'Ripped in 30'. It's so cheesy that we spend more time laughing than actually doing the moves but it's good fun. I also joined an ultimate frisbee team which meet every Saturday morning at Hillcrest school (the school very wealthy Nigerian children go to as well as the Missionary kids). I wasn't a natural at it by any stretch of the imagination, my frisbee throwing has a lot of room for improvement but it was a lot of fun and very good run around.

In the west we apply for a job, and the position comes with certain responsibilities and specific roles we have to fill, however in ministry I've found it to be a much more fluid concept. After processing my initial frustration and realising that nothing is quite so black and white here, after talking to Kelly (the City Ministries Health Coordinator) and asking what her expectations are and what she anticipates me doing, I've been able to conclude that it's more about what I want to do, where I feel led to use my skills in the various areas of need.

With this in mind I'll try to give a brief overview of the three main orphanages that I will primarily be working in, the differences between them and where I feel I'd like to be spending the majority of my time. Gidan Bege is the main outreach centre in Jos, and is the base for lots of different ministries. It is where the boys first live as they transition from living on the streets to living with the ministry. Gidan Bege houses up to 15 boys between the ages of 5 and 14. Typically the boys live at Gidan Bege for a period of 6 months and have school in the morning and crafts, sports, counseling and bible study in the afternoon. This is also where there are weekly medical clinics for the muslim woman and men (although numbers have greatly reduced of late due to the tensions in Jos). After completing 6 months at Gidan Bege, the boys move to Gyero, the rural care center, housing primary aged boy (about 45mins from Jos). Gyero is the largest centre with about 130 children at present and the only center housing girls. This is where the girls come straight into the ministry. There is a primary school at Gyero and the children are split into groups of 10-12 and live with a caregiver. Transition House (TH) is the care centre for senior boys in Jos. At TH boys learn how to transition out of life in the ministry and into the 'real world'. There are also 5 other care centers within city ministries; Mukurdi, Kaduna, Lafiya, Kagoro and Kafanchan. These are located different distances from Jos, some as far as hours away, but which I will be visiting over the year, mainly to administer injections.

I had an initial tour around Gidan Bege and TH last week and it was all very daunting, the combination of hearing Kelly's amazing Hausa with the Muslim woman in the afternoon clinic and the ease at which she conversed, being shown the various medications (vastly different from the ones I'm used to in NZ) and what they're used for, being introduced to hundreds of important people and trying to remember their names as well as trying to process the new surroundings and lack of resources I'll have to be dealing with, all took their toll on me and I went home feeling very overwhelmed. The next day however we made the trip out to Gyero. After a bumpy ride (the last 30mins are on a dirt road which has just been improved significantly I'm told) we arrived and I was shown around the different houses and introduced to the uncles and mama's looking after the children. The kids were so immediately accepting and loving, such a joy to be around. I saw a lot of medical needs, from rotten teeth that need pulling to fungal scalp conditions, but on the whole the kids are well cared for. Challenges will come with the change of seasons however, as illness can spread quickly in such cramped communal living. I've heard stories of tummy troubles come mango season too (next few weeks), when the kids, who eat no fruit all year decide to consume five mangoes in one day! “Aunty my stomach hurts....” hmmm I wonder why! I'm so looking forward to working with the children, getting to know them individually, hear their stories and journey with them, but I can already feel that God will use this process to make big changes in me.

I have a head cold at the moment, probably my boy getting used to the change of climate and the dust around the place. The Nigerian single ply tissues are as rough as nails and my nose is raw...oh how I miss you 3-ply Eucalyptus scented Kleenex! But other than that, I'm in perfect health, no tummy upsets from the food as yet, so Praise God for that! Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts, until next time.

The Market place, adventures with food and NEPA!

Last Sunday afternoon after church, George (our resident tour guide in Jos) took a car load of us from Challenge out to some amazing rock formations about 15mins out of town. He saw them from the road years ago and found a way to access them by foot. He named one 'golf ball' rock because it is the most amazing spherical rock perched precariously on top of another with seemingly no way of being held in place. I climbed up and pushed it, but alas even my brute strength was not going to dislodge it! I pray that no one will be standing underneath when the erosion process finally has it's way. The landscape in general at the moment is very barren and sparse. The long-termers have told me how beautiful the Plateau is over the rainy season; everything just comes to life and is green and lush with streams and waterfalls to visit in the weekends. It seems like such an impossibility at present when the earth is so parched that I'm sure it would need months of solid rain to produce something living. But then that's Africa for you, a continent of extremes.

It's the dry/cool season at the moment and the Harmattan winds are blowing dust around the city so it's very hazy and everything in my apartment gets covered in a fine dust, I don't think I'm going to bother trying to fight the loosing battle of keeping my floors clean just now, especially since every single window in my apartment is open (with bars and netting over them) and stays that way the whole day! I'm a little concerned because it's very hot here for me (it's 36 degrees today), but the other missionaries keep commenting about how cool the weather has been! Hmmm, hope I acclimatise quickly! Evenings are really nice at the moment though, I went to a missionary families house for dinner last night and we (about 30 people in total) sat outside till 9am (me getting eaten alive by Mozzies - yes I had insect repellant on - I have delicious blood apparently!). One good thing is that I'l loving how fast everything dries here!

I had my cultural orientation to the market place and the center of town the other day. Now I can understand how friends who have travelled and spent time in developing nations have commented that it can take a whole day to go shopping and to buy food! It was definitely sensory overload. The noise, the smells, the heat, the lack of personal space, the need to greet people everywhere you went and politely decline the offers to buy venders wares....after a few hours I was exhausted!

My Nigerian tour guide, a lovely lady named Kauna from SIM office, who has spent some time in the US so understands the Western ways of doing and being, first took me to the Baturi (white person) market. This market has things like strawberries, apples, broccoli and cauliflower, things not indigenous to Nigeria. Our next stop was to buy fabric for me to get some Nigerian wrapper skirts made from. It's highly important to do this, as it shows to the Nigerians that you're willing to learn and embrace their culture. We entered a narrow alleyway full of cramped stores wall to wall with yards of bright coloured fabric, I chose a pink and green patterned number....photos will follow if I ever get good internet speed!

I got a sim card for my phone so I can stay in touch with people here and receive security alerts when need be. I had to get it registered which was a bit intimidating when they not only wanted a photo but my thumb and index fingerprints of both hands for their system!

Next stop was the local supermarket most of the missionaries use. I was surprised by how many things were available, lots of american brands particularly, but I saw vegemite, maggi stock, cadbury chocolate and even white chocolate malteasers! Lots of imitation products of overseas brands such as 'Skiipy' peanut butter instead of Skippy and things I'll have to slowly discover how to buy Nigerian, like the best tasting milk powder, where to buy fresh yoghurt (Nigerian have a sweet liquid drink they call yoghurt...nice but not on muesli or fruit) and which meats to avoid and which are safe to buy. I then got some Nigerian vegetables from the street venders: carrots, lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, capsicums and cucumber. It was so cheap, for example all of that would have cost me under $5 NZD.

After lugging all my produce and fabric home because none of the taxi's would pick us up due to the traffic around Challenge compound (a taxi costs 50 Naira for most destinations; NZ 35 cents), I got home and attempted to pre-prepare some of my food. Because our western stomaches aren't accustomed to the Nigeria water supply (who knows what kind of parasites could be lurking), we not only filter our water but bleach the food we want to eat raw. This doesn't include food you can peel such as bananas, mangos, oranges and papayas, but things like strawberries, lettuce, tomatoes etc. must get soaked in a bleach called Milton for 7-10mins before it's safe to eat. Food preparation here therefore takes a lot more time and thought. I even have to use bottled/filtered water while brushing my teeth! I try to hold the bottle in my left hand the whole time so I don't go for the tap with my spare hand as it is still habit to do, I've had a few near misses and I'm positive I've swallowed shower water, but I'm not dead yet so that's good!

Well I've been here a week now and we have several power cuts a day. Apparently the electricity (or NEPA as it's referred to here, stands for Nigerian Electrical Power Association) has improved in my district in recent months because one of the Governors' has moved in down the road and also because there are several big banks in the same region that obviously can't afford to be without power too long. My colleague Kelly said they often go without power for days in her compound and once went for 2 weeks without any power. We're very blessed at Challenge because we have had a battery system installed. It's very expensive to run but it's such an amazing relief to have light when there's no NEPA simply by flicking a different switch. I did wonder when I first arrived why there were two light switches for every light in my apartment. One of the hard things about having no NEPA is that there is no way to keep things cool or frozen. As I don't have a huge amount in my freezer, I've frozen water bottles so that when the power is off, what I have in there will stay frozen for around 40-50 hours. The key is just to open the fridge as infrequently as possible. It's been so crazy realising how much we take for granted in our developed country. Speaking for myself I definitely felt quite enraged and hard done by if for some reason the power was out at home, wether because of bad weather or servicing of the wires, but here it's just an awesome privilege to have continuous NEPA the whole day! I did my first load of washing the other night and the power went out mid cycle, typical! Thankfully it came on again a few hours later so my clothes weren't soaking for too long. That's all for now, I'm trying my hardest to keep each blog a readable length!

Apartment, impatience, church and Mango Fly!

So I promised to go into more detail about my apartment for those of you who would like a mental picture of my surroundings, so I'll try my best to explain it. For starters, the other missionaries on the compound assure me it's the best of all the rooms because it's off the street, so in theory the quietest (although I hate to think of what the others must be like considering I get very little sleep between the water tank motor randomly firing into action every hour, the Muslim call to prayer over the loud speaker from 4am, the sound of my next door neighbors motorbike starting up at some ungodly hour, dogs barking, roosters crowing and bizarre Nigerian birds always chirping outside my window....oh and my insanely hard Nigerian style bed! Hmmm aren't hard beds meant to be good for your back???). My apartment is also on the bottom level of the compound so should be cooler in the hot season (March-May). It has just had a fresh coat of paint, and when I come in each day I can still smell the fumes strongly, but then get used to it after a while...probably not so good for me! All the lounge furniture has just been reupholstered too. I do feel very blessed indeed. My little place has a back door that opens out onto a cute courtyard, where George (a long term missionary teaching at the Seminary here) keeps his veggie patch and Gaelyne (an occupational therapist working at the hospital-if you can call the flea and rat infested place a hospital!) has her garden. There is a little raised deck which George built a few years ago which we sit on to have meals in the evening together sometimes and where they've hung fairy lights from the trees. The apartment itself has a kitchen, lounge, dining room, bathroom and bedroom. My next door neighbour Fiona (a physio working at Evangel hospital also and doing work with women in brothels) and I share a washing machine. I spent the first few days making the place feel more my own; putting up pictures and hanging all the wonderful heartfelt farewell cards so many of you gave me before I left and of course plastering my walls in my bedroom, lounge and fridge with gorgeous photos from home (you're all now famous in Nigeria!). I have all the essentials I need here in my flat thanks to previous short term missionaries before me, and from my first few days looking around the shops and supermarkets it seems as though if I lack anything in terms of equipment for my kitchen or home, I can find it somewhere if Im prepared to search, albeit a very cheap version of the desired option...think 'made in China'!

As I mentioned previously my schedule for the last few days has been jammed full of lunch and dinner dates with various missionary families and SIM people from other compounds. It's been a really humbling experience to meet these people who have been so eagerly anticipating my arrival and praying fervently for someone to come and help Kelly with the City Ministries medical ministry here in Jos. They are so welcoming and genuinely want to make me feel a part of the community. One thing I've been pleasantly surprised about so far is how good the food is. After reading about the Nigerian cuisine before arriving I was expecting bland mushy starch for breakfast, lunch and dinner. However I've been eating amazing homemade pizza's, chicken, salads, pita and hummus, lasangne, fresh papaya, watermelon, mangos and strawberries, not to mention the desserts and cakes! Admittedly the missionary woman who have been so generously cooking and baking for me have lived here for years (my mentor, a lady named Miriam has been here 23 years) so have come to know where to get things, what available, how best to prepare them and of course how to use their gas oven to perfection! I've told my flatmate Fiona to be prepared to smell some funky burning smells from my place next week once I'm on my own in the kitchen. I've never had to light an oven with a match before! But I'll go into more of the food and cooking adventures in another blog as there's so much to talk about including the fact I have to bleach my fruit and veggies!

I'm feeling a real sense of impatience (probably not so surprising for those of you familiar with my personality!) and frustration at the moment due to my inability to speak Hausa and navigate my way around the city. I know these things will come in time and it's only my first week here, but language seems to be such a connector here, even just knowing basic greetings will be exciting. It's still very overwhelming driving around the township as there are no road signs and no sense or order in the way the roads are set out. It seems to be a real haphazard connection of streets with the odd round about (which drivers on motorbikes will quite happily drive around the wrong way!).

I went to my first church service Sunday. Fiona and some of the others from Challenge go to an ECWA church (one of the biggest church denominations in Jos) at JETS (Jos Evangelical Theological Seminary) so I went along with them. I had been told to dress up and wear a head covering and when I turned up I was in awe of the amazing colour and patterns on the women's traditional Nigerian dresses, their scarfs matching their outfits precisely of course. When we arrived we were scanned with what I assume was a bomb detector device before entering the church. The worship was incredible, the passion and soul behind the praise was such a joy to be surrounded by, I didn't even want to participate but just sit there and soak in it all. The service went for about 2 hours (short by Nigerian standards) and I was so hot I felt like passing out mid sermon (I'd made the mistake of layering my tops). I looked around me and saw how much clothing everyone else was wearing and told myself to suck it up! Hopefully they put the ceiling fans on next week!

I started my orientation yesterday which included a health lecture with the nurse who looks after the general health of all the missionaries here (87 in total at the moment). She went into the anti-malarial I'm taking and the importance of taking them with food, the need to sleep under my mosquito net, how to stay safe with water and food and also how to avoid common health hazards like the Mango Fly. Now I don't get squeamish easily being a nurse myself but this Mango Fly is something even I do not want to have to experience! Apparently if you hang our washing anywhere near a mango tree in season the Mango Fly (which eat the rotting mangos) can lay larvae in your clothes and then burrow into your skin when you're wearing them! You start to feel itchy and notice a red welt soon after and if you suspect a mango fly larvae you put Vaseline over the red pimple like spot and wait a few hours. The larvae then suffocates and has to come to the surface where you can squeeze it out like a pimple, only a long worm like larvae will come out! I have no idea why this has traumatised me so much, esp. considering it's not a life and death disease, but it might be to do with the fact that we have a mango tree at Challenge compound! The way to avoid it is to iron all your clothing before wearing it to kill the larvae. As soon as I see mangos on that tree I'm going to super vigilant at my ironing, might even dry my underwear in my bathroom! Ha ha.

Right better be off now, another day of orientation awaits me. Get my sim card for phone today, have felt quite lost without a phone! Not that I'll be able to text any of you, but habits die hard.

N xxx

The Journey

So here starts my blog about life and medical ministry in Nigeria.

As I write this I'll try to include as many interesting facts and stories, cultural oddities and differences as I can, especially before I become accustomed to them and adopt the many crazy things the locals do that at present I find hilarious! If you have any suggestions for blog topics and particular things you want to hear about don't hesitate to comment and suggest something.

Well I guess the first place to start is the beginning.

The Journey:

The night before I left NZ I was at my Dad's place looking at a globe with my brother. I put my finger on NZ and then another one on Nigeria, there was no other country that was further away, it was true...I was literally going to the other side of the world. With that in mind, I knew that my flight path was a long one and I'd mentally prepared in advance. My total travel time was to be 39 hours, 28 hours of which was actual flying time. So as I embarked the plane in wellington en route to Auckland I was defiantly apprehensive of what the next 2 days held.

I've never been a good sleeper at the best of times. My family will attest to this (I'm sure they recall black-out curtains during high school years) as will my most recent flatmates (who patiently accommodated my requests to turn down the TV and tip toe around while I am trying to sleep during the day after night shifts). So needless to say, it did not bode well for me trying to sleep on the plane. With a total of 3 hours sleep under my belt once reaching Africa, I was feeling jaded to say the least. Plus, who can resist the temptation to watch just 'one more' movie before trying to rest (I managed 6, and some TV series when my attention span was waning), and then there's the chance that I'd miss a meal if I fell asleep – heaven forbid! Airplane food is average at best, but something to break up the monotony and act as a distraction for 30 mins is always something to look forward to. On recollection, drinking 8 liters of water over this time span probably didn't help either. Before you ask, my logic was that the more I drunk, the more I'd need the toilet, the more often I'd be forced to get up out of my seat and walk around, and therefore the less likely my ankles would swell..... unfortunalty there must have been an error in this theory because after the first 14 hours, my feet indeed reminded me of the Frodo the hobbits, massive in size with squishy ankles and a horrible tight sensation, I could hardly fit my feet into my shoes again! Despite the fatigue and fat feet, with the knowledge I had to have my wits about me for navigating Nigerian immigration and customs, God gave me a supernatural alertness. This was probably also helped by the adrenaline rush achieved by spilling scolding hot coffee all over myself an hour before disembarking. Quite ironic really, Nurse Nicky needing first aid from the cabin crew. Picture me sitting at the back on the plane in the crew compartment with my hand in cold water and cold flannels between my knees!

Anyway, I arrived at Lagos airport (South Nigeria), my first stop in Africa, and joined the end of a massive line of non-Nigerians with Visas to be checked to clear immigration. A young Indian guy, I guessed in his late twenties, named Raj introduced himself and started chatting. He'd lived in Nigeria for 18 years and was returning after 6 years of university in India. Once successfully through immigration (a good 45mins later), Raj took it upon himself to make sure I made it through customs. He began arguing in Hausa with the officials about something and before I knew it, He'd bribed our way through the line without having to declare anything or have our bags searched! Welcome to Africa; where everything has a price!

I was met outside the airport by someone arranged by SIM to transport me to the domestic terminal. Once I arrived and found the correct desk I one of the lines to have my bag weighed and get my boarding pass. Unfortunately, as I was soon to find out, nothing is ever that easy or simple in Africa. Once my bag was weighed I was told I'd have to pay excess baggage and to wait in the other line. Once I reached the front of line number two I checked in and found that my flight scheduled for 5pm didn't exist and that I could be put on the 345pm (which would mean I'd have to contact the driver picking me up the other end to collect me earlier). I agreed to this and was booked on the flight. I was then told to stand in the other line to get my ticket. Once I reached the front of the first line again my bag was weighed again and I was given an excess baggage label which I had to pay for in line number two! Once I'd payed for my luggage I had to line up again with my form saying I'd payed it and then one of the 'nice' men said that he would put my bag through for me and to follow him (essentially put it out the back to go on the plane!), once he came back I thanked him and he asked if I had anything for him....my first forced tip. I played dumb with the security lady who riffled through my hand luggage waiting for me to offer a bribe to be let through, she eventually got tired of waiting for me to clue up and sighed and waved me on, obvious frustrated by my perceived naivety. As I sat in the departure lounge (the only white person in sight) waiting, trying to decipher the poor english over the intercom, it was announced my plane was delayed 50 mins, so the flight ended up leaving at the same time as the one that I had been scheduled to be one in the first place!

When I reached Abuja I was met by my lovely SIM driver Danjuma and experienced driving Nigerian style. If there are any road rules in Nigeria they are not obvious. There are no speed limits (even though the car was in miles per hour and I didn't know the conversion to k/hr, I'm sure we were going FAST!), no one really gives way unless the intersection is patrolled and you just seem to honk your horn to let people know you're coming and floor it! Nigerian drivers don't even seem to stick to their side of the road, it's all very fluid and if you have to use the other side to avoid a few pot holes then that's what you do.

It turned out that all the usual hostels used by missionaries were full so I was booked into The Penail Apartments, used by the missionaries when they need a break from ministry. They were very luxurious by African standards and I got a really good nights sleep.

I met Danjuma at 8am to start our drive to Jos and I was quite anxious about all the check points I'd been warned about. Danjuma told me Nigerians are very friendly and want to talk, just to smile and apologise for not knowing the language if they addressed me in Hausa. We were stopped 8 times by various police, officials and tax collectors, but didn't have any problems. After explaining what I was doing in Jos, one of the policemen even said to me “something good will come from this car; it is blessed”!” Thank you Jesus!

As we drove across the country it was very bare, barren and brown. Cacti actually do grow in the dessert! People seemed to spend their days in little shops and stalls along the main road selling everything under the sun, but typically motorbike tyres, fuel in glass coke bottles and massive yams (a staple here)! When we finally started to make our way up onto the Plateau the scenery changed and became mountainous and there were amazing rock formations with enormous boulders sitting on top of each other in a way that looked like someone has purposefully placed them just so, but there was no way humanly possibly for that to have happened so I marveled at God's design.

I finally arrived at Challenge compound, my home for the year, I was met my Helen and Chris Cowie who are the personnel directors and security team here. I was shown my apartment (which I will detail further in another blog) and then taken out to lunch (as European as possible so as not to give me too much culture shock!). Once back at the compound, Lani the Challenge home help had prepared fresh oat cookies and cinnamon scrolls for me.

There is so much more I want to write about, like my apartment, the climate, the culture, the food, clothing, electricity and church life to name a few, but that will wait for another post.

I have a very full week planned of lunches and dinners with various missionaries and orientation activities such as security lectures, mentoring, cultural, ministry and medical orientation as well as sorting out a Nigerian sim card for my phone, a guided tour of the market (how to barter for produce) and a visit to a Nigerian tailor! Bring on the multi colour dresses!!